You're going back, Charley?
Aye?
Come then, little one!" He took the youngest child on his arm, where she was willing enough to be carried.

"I shouldn't wonder if we found a ginger-bread soldier downstairs.

Let's go and look for him!" He made his former rough salutation, which was not deficient in a certain respect, to Mr.Jarndyce, and bowing slightly to us, went downstairs to his room.
Upon that, Mr.Skimpole began to talk, for the first time since our arrival, in his usual gay strain.

He said, Well, it was really very pleasant to see how things lazily adapted themselves to purposes.
Here was this Mr.Gridley, a man of a robust will and surprising energy--intellectually speaking, a sort of inharmonious blacksmith--and he could easily imagine that there Gridley was, years ago, wandering about in life for something to expend his superfluous combativeness upon--a sort of Young Love among the thorns--when the Court of Chancery came in his way and accommodated him with the exact thing he wanted.

There they were, matched, ever afterwards! Otherwise he might have been a great general, blowing up all sorts of towns, or he might have been a great politician, dealing in all sorts of parliamentary rhetoric; but as it was, he and the Court of Chancery had fallen upon each other in the pleasantest way, and nobody was much the worse, and Gridley was, so to speak, from that hour provided for.